


The Fall of the Serpent

by madbrigid



Category: Vikings (TV)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-12-12
Updated: 2019-12-19
Packaged: 2021-02-18 03:44:14
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,161
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21771208
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/madbrigid/pseuds/madbrigid
Summary: Once Hvitserk finds Ubbe’s damaged body on the battlefield, he regrets standing on Ivar’s side. He takes his wounded brother to a safe place, in a promise of taking care of him until Ubbe can walk again. But neither of them knows what to expect from each other, specially after so many years apart.
Relationships: Hvitserk & Ubbe (Vikings), Hvitserk/Ubbe (Vikings)
Comments: 10
Kudos: 28





	1. Post-War Meeting

**Author's Note:**

> Not a native English speaker, so please be patient.  
> Also, please let me know what you think!

The smoke spreading over the battlefield tasted like blood. The smell of death raised through the gathered bodies on the floor, some of them still moaning in pain, others remaining on the dry soil for so long, the crows were already feeding on them. Hvitserk could hear, at a distance, the roaring of the soldiers who had fought by his side; the sound of Ivar hitting his axe on the iron shield was like no other. But the sensation in Hvitserk’s chest was of no victory.

“Ubbe...”

The words came out of his lips silently. Hvitserk had been looking for his brother over the whole battlefield, but found no sign of him. He knew Ubbe wouldn’t have escaped the battle, neither could have been killed by an ordinary soldier. His older brother could only have been taken down by another son of Ragnar, and if Ivar had caused his death, he would be holding Ubbe’s head as a trophy on the field by now.

“Ubbe...”

Hvitserk’s legs weakened. He tried go through the terrible images of his spotless mind, again and again, trying to find any clue leading to his brother. He wanted to believe Ubbe had escaped, but after Lagertha’s death, whose body was now being shredded by Ivar’s furious axe, he knew Ubbe it couldn’t be. Ubbe would never run away from a battle, specially that one.

Hvitserk passed his hands on his forehead, a trail of blood spreading on his skin. He would never know whose blood that was, but please, _please_ , he prayed for Odin it wasn’t Ubbe’s.

The images of the battle overlapped each other in his twisted mind. It was too much information. Hvitserk had lived his whole life in battlefields, and he knew that at some point the chaos of war collapsed the soldier’s minds. It was common for them to kill each other accidentally, for the mists of blood made it hard to distinguish who was on which side. But Hvitserk had never committed that mistake. He had never attacked someone unintentionally, at least not until that bloody day.

“UBBE!” He howled to the top of his lungs, his eyes scanning the land desperately. “UBBE!” He looked around, scavenging the pile of bodies at his feet, throwing himself on a group of crows that flew away, revealing more corpses. But not Ubbe’s. Hvitserk couldn’t find him... He just couldn’t find him.

“No...” He stammered, his body shivering as the worst possibilities crossed his tormented mind. If it wasn’t for Ivar, none of that would have happened. And as Hvitserk could hear Ivar’s howling over Lagertha’s body, he felt the taste of iron and hatred on his tongue. He would kill him.

Hvitserk would skin him alive, for Odin, he would wash his face and his body on Ivar’s blood, cut his skin with a butcher’s knife. But he didn’t have the time to act.

Someone choked by his side, in such a desperate need of air, it felt like death approaching. But Hvitserk knew that tone, he would recognize Ubbe’s voice even through the tortuous paths of Hel. His anxious eyes followed the noise until they found him.

“Hvit...serk...”

Ubbe was stuck under one of wagons in which Ivar’s warriors had come down the hill. Some hours ago, those wagons had been the reason why the youngest Ragnarsson was most successful in his plan; on those vehicles, his soldiers had beheaded theirs enemies, filling the land with a bunch of corpses. But it didn’t seem like Ubbe had been hit by those warriors; it looked as if he had only been in the wrong place, at the wrong time. It was almost certain that the wagon had somehow fallen down on his body, causing him to be now stuck under its wheels.

Hvitserk ran to him, moaning in pain for the strength he had to put on the wagon to hold it and throw it to the other side, finally revealing the damaged body of his brother. Tears rose in his eyes as he fell on his knees, the sound of Ubbe’s voice reaching his ears once more.

“Bro...ther...”

Ubbe had a compound fracture on his ankle, where the broken bones could be seen cutting the flesh, but still he had a weak smile on his face, as if he didn’t want to be seen in such pain. On that same face, the smiling lips were surrounded by cuts and bruises; he had a black eye he couldn’t open. By his side - and Hvitserk thought we was mistaken at first sight - Torvi’s dead body. Now, it was clear as water: in an attempt to save her, Ubbe had thrown himself under the wagon, but had no luck at all.

“Don’t look at me like that... Brother...” He could barely speak, the blood dripping down from the cut lips. “You... Used to be... The tough one among us”.

Hvitserk had no words; his brain was absolutely blank, but the pain in his chest was strong enough to make the tears fall down from his eyes, reaching Ubbe’s wounded face. He tried to hold his brother’s neck as gently as possible, raising him a little bit, making it easier for Ubbe to breathe.

“Ubbe... I will... Take you away from here...”

“I can’t walk, brother...” He whispered, his speech intersected by a blood cough.

The pain in Hvitserk’s chest was not only for seeing Ubbe in that state, but for knowing he would carry that guilt forever. If Hvitserk hadn’t supported Ivar for so long... If he hadn’t agreed to join a battle that wasn’t his own, if he hadn’t fought his own blood... None of that would have happened.

“I will... Take you with me... If I put you among our deads, I can take you out of here...”

“And keep me as a prisioner under Ivar’s roof...”

“He won’t know. He won’t know, Ubbe...”

Another weak smile formed on Ubbe’s lips. It was clear for him that Hvitserk hadn’t realized; war had blinded his younger brother to a point that he couldn’t remember that Torvi was dead because of him. In an attempt to save herself from Hvitserk furious blade, she had come to a critical spot on the field, where a wagon was collapsing on the ground. However, Hvitserk’s tears spoke for themselves: he was already in guilt, already in too much pain.

As he felt Hvitserk’s tears on his face, Ubbe just closed his eyes. The last couple of hours had been filled with blood, cuts and screams; pain in its most pure essence. And now, as Hvitserk’s warm tears reached his wounded face, it was such a relief. Ubbe almost couldn’t remember what being treated with care felt like.

“Ubbe... Please, brother...”

In one last effort, Ubbe tried to open his exhausted eyes, scanning his litlle brother’s beautiful face painted red. Finally, Ubbe nodded, and the last thing he saw before losing consciousness was Hvitserk throwing a dark cloak on his body.


	2. Saving Each Other

Torvi visited him in his dreams. Ubbe was on a boat, floating on a transparent river, her fingers carressing his braids. His head rested on her lap, his light blue eyes focused on the sky above.

“Why is it, Ubbe, my love?” Her sweet voice reached his ears, Ubbe now closing his eyes to enjoy the warmth of her hands.

“Why is what?”

“Why is it that you can’t kill him?”

Ubbe opened his eyes, now realizing how hurt her face was. Deep cuts prevailed on her skin and blood drops fell from her eyes, dripping on his hair, painting it red. Torvi had sent him that sad look before, but never like that, never in such terror; she wept on him, the expression on her face making it feel like it was all his fault. Making it look as if he didn’t care.

“Look what he’s done to me, Ubbe... Look what he’s done to me!”

-

Ubbe woke up gasping for air, almost falling off the bed. He scanned Hvitserk’s bedroom as trying to calm down, pressing his sweaty temples, wishing above all things to forget the disturbing images imprinted on his brain. His eyes focused on a dark silhouette which observed him back behind a transparent curtain. Hvitserk stared at him in the dark, his misty green eyes fixed on him, as if hypnotized.

“What are you doing?” Ubbe sat on the bed, a moan of pain accidentally escaping his lips, for his wounds were still open.

Hvitserk remained silent for a while. He took some steps in his direction, and the light from the fireplace enlightened his beautiful face.

“Sometimes, you look so much like him.”

“Like who?” Ubbe asked, although he already knew the answer.

“Ragnar.”

Ubbe nodded, lowering his eyes to the sheets. He carried a burden; among all Ragnarsson, he was the one people connected the most to his father; even more than Björn. People expected Ubbe to be as good and fair as Ragnar; they expected him to make the right choices, just like Ragnar. However, and despite being the oldest of his generation, Ubbe never thought he was worth such expectations. He was far behind his father.

“Do you think he’s taking revenge on me?” Hvitserk asked, now a few steps away from his brother. His face expression was worse than worried; was exhausted. Beautiful features, immersed in a deep, cold darkness.

“Ragnar? Revenge?”

“Through you.”

Ubbe felt like laughing at such ridiculous idea, but didn’t. He only allowed a smirk to form on his lips and shook his head.

“I don’t think Ragnar would ever take revenge on you. Specially not through a man who’s made his mistakes too.”

Hvitserk frowned, as if he didn’t get it. In his troubled mind, Ubbe didn’t seem to have made any mistakes in his life. While observing him in the dark, Ubbe realized he wasn’t the only who looked like their parents; each day, Hvitserk’s deep, misty eyes reminded him more of Aslaug. The youngest took some more steps towards him, finally sitting on the bed. Now, he avoided eye contact.

“Maybe he’s punishing me for standing with Ivar.”

“There is no right or wrong side, brother.”

Ubbe then pulled him closer, just enough to stick both foreheads to each other, the same way he used to do when they were kids. So many words unspoken for so many years, but just for a while, it was like they were back in time. Despite fearful and deeply damaged, they were together once more.

“Ivar’s made you change, Hvitserk” He murmured, closing his eyes for a while. “But it doesn’t mean I can’t change you back.”

“I have to kill him.”

Hvitserk was lost in the shadow. He knew he should avoid that proximity; showing his weakness to Ubbe didn’t seem much of a bright idea, specially after so many years apart, but still... It’s been a while he didn’t open up with anybody. Since Ivar had killed Margrethe, no soul in Kattegat seemed to be insane enough to listen to Hvitserk.

“I have to kill him, Ubbe” He trembled in anxiety, as if the possibility of killing Ivar could clear his own past, reverse his mistakes. He now noticed the blood on the sheets around them, and knew it was all his fault.

“No. Just for a while, you need some rest, Hvitserk.”

The right decision would be to decline it, but Hviteserk couldn’t. He nodded, unable to speak, unable to think. The proximity to his older brother was making him feel dizzy, thoughts overlapping each other. Ubbe threw himself on the bed once more, pulling Hvitserk with him; but as soon as he saw himself lying next to the other, Hvitserk felt the buzz of adrenaline emerging.

“What the hell are you doing?”

Ubbe seemed so relaxed, as if he didn’t even feel any pain anymore. He shrugged, a gentle smile on his face.

“Do you remember that day, when we were kids playing on a frozen river, and the ice broke up? I fell into the water and almost drowned” Ubbe glanced at him, probably hidding something.

“Where is this coming from?”

“You were younger than me, still you saved me that day.”

“Why are you saying that, Ubbe?”

Once more, Ubbe shrugged, a tiny smile back on his face. In that moment, Hvitserk felt that warmth on his chest; a sensation that could only be brought by his older brother, so long lost in time.

“Everything has its bright side, brother.”

Hvisterk lowered his eyes, speechless. No longer he had the feeling he should get off the bed. Just for a while, he accepted lying close to his brother, both of them staring at the ceiling as the snow fell around the house. And despite Ubbe was the one wounded that night, Hvitserk felt the other way around; it was just like he had fallen into a deep cold water and Ubbe have saved him from himself.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'd love to know what you think


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